


Chapter Three: Hair of the Dog

by CavalierConvoy



Series: MTMTE Series One: Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation Two, Transformers: Beast Machines, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Bribery, Conspiracy, Drinking & Talking, Gen, Good Cop Bad Cop, Investigations, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 06:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3198518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On board the <i>Lost Light</i>, what started as a simple investigation for missing fuel cells only dredges more questions, and, as the list of suspects becomes shorter, one question stands out: where the hell's Red Alert?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter Three: Hair of the Dog

 

Man whose eyes were sore from obscenities  
He kept on looking  
Man whose heart bled killed by compassion  
He kept on feeling  
Man whose legs buckled under exertion  
He kept on running  
The man whose ears rang with the sound of his own name  
He kept on listening

— [ "Hair of the Dog" ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bMmd8-5oG3Q) by Bauhaus from _Singles: 1979-1983, Vol. 1_

_Lost Light_

Now

 

Red Alert was pacing. Not unusual.

Shuttle Bay Eleven was reserved for general weapons testing and sparring. Artemis and Skids had led a petition to section off a place on board for such activities; too many crew members blew off steam with physical activity. Rodimus agreed and gave them permission to utilise the space, which won her over with many of the violent Autobots on board.

Trailcutter called out to Red, who halted his furious pacing and looked up at his two subordinates.

"This is just a friendly suggestion," the white and red Autobot chided, "but could you drink in shifts? That was I know at least one of you is sober whenever I need you?"

"We don't get drunk while on duty," Trailcutter reported.

Red Alert glared at him. "Don't think I didn't catch your meaning. And the only reason I don't report either of you is that few others are willing to work security."

"Besides, that's kinda like stating water's wet," Artemis muttered.

"I'm sure Perceptor could argue otherwise," Trailcutter rebutted.

Artemis shrugged. "Very true."

"Minds on the situation!" Red Alert barked. "Ever since the explosion, I've been receiving reports on missing cargo, primarily equipment that could very easily be used to construct weapons — "

"I'll talk to Brainstorm," Artemis interrupted.

"I already did. He produced requisition reports that clear him." This, Red delivered with sarcasm.

"I can shake him down if he's got anything else," Artemis appended.

"Oh, I can see how that will go," Trailcutter grinned. "'But Art, check out this new gun I made! I'll let you have it if you forget you saw that!'"

"I never do that!" she protested.

Red pinched his brow and sighed. "Can we be serious for five cycles? And by 'we', I mean 'you two drunks.'"

They snapped at attention. "Sir," they saluted in unison.

"Now you're patronising me."

"Sorry, Red," they apologised. Artemis fought a giggle.

Now Red rubbed his optics. "Primus give me the strength...Brainstorm was cleared, I've already been through both his and Perceptor's labs for any stolen equipment or contraband."

"Did you check any of the bootlegger holds?" Artemis suggested.

Red shot her a scathing glare. "We don't, to my knowledge, have any 'bootlegger holds'."

"To your knowledge, yes. It's fortunate you just happen to have a former bootlegger on your security team."

"'Former'?" Trailcutter smirked. Artemis shushed him.

"I should have called Drift. I can't even trust my own team —"

"When have we ever disappointed you? Wait, let me rephrase that," Trailcutter held up his hands. "When have we ever failed in our duties under your supervision?"

"Good save," Artemis muttered. He gave her a quick thumbs' up.

Red Alert dropped his arms to his side and stared up at the ceiling with a groan. "This position will be the death of me. Fine. Artemis, locate any bootlegging holds and report back to me of their locations. Trailcutter, here's a list of individuals I want questioned regarding the thefts." Red Alert tapped a message on his datapad, forwarding the list to the large grey Autobot's.

Trailcutter looked it over before regarding Artemis. "Whirl's on the list — want to handle him? He's a gashole with me."

"He's a gashole to everyone. Anyway, If he did it, he'd be bragging. But yeah, I'll take care of him. Anything else you need us to do, Red?"

Red Alert bowed his head, contemplating his next words, looking left, then right, as though concerned about being overheard. Stepping closer to the two, he asked, "Have you heard any...strange noises? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"No more than my usual demons," Artemis admitted off-the-cuff. "Although I'll check to see if Cav's organising another _Five Nights_ ARG with the other Minibots again."

"Likely that," Trailcutter agreed. "Tailgate was all about the last event."

"Maybe that's all it was," Red Alert nodded, but he was not convinced. Artemis and Trailcutter shared a sideway glance to one another.

"You think he's tweaked more than usual?" Trailcutter hissed as they left.

"Define 'usual.' He's likely hearing the echoes in the ventilation systems. I've caught most of the Minibots crawling around there at least once."

"Well, guess it's back to work?"

Artemis nodded, taking out her flask. "Nip for the road?"

"Better not; Red's still within earshot. Meet back at Swerve's end-of-shift?"

"Might take a rain check on that tonight. I'm low on ammo and Brainstorm owes me a favour."

Trailcutter shook his head with a chuckle. "Remind me never to owe you anything."

"Let us get one thing straight: you owe me nothing. Never have, never will." She toasted him with the flask but not drinking. "Now, to find any bootlegger hold."

"Any, not all?"

"Oh, you know me too well. Gotta find ways to keep the ships' coffers full and Swerve in my pocket."

"And here I thought you were an honest, hardworking individual."

"Oh, don't get me wrong; I just like getting free drinks for my hard work."

They parted company at the next fork in the corridor; Artemis continuing down to the labs. Red did much by the book, though was frustrated when hit by bureaucratic red tape. Unless it had to do with his own personal demons. Those, he pulled out all the stops. But not pursuing an obvious hand-wave from the resident weapons engineer...Red had something else on his mind.

Artemis liked the shakedown aspect of her job. What Red and Magnus did not realise — or they did but did not want to accept it — was people talk when they drink. Both she and Trailcutter knew that, which made them ideal for their jobs. They were also seasoned by stels of building up tolerances: talk about nothing to get others to talk about everything. That was where Trailcutter was going on his end of things: back to Swerve's, catch those on his list, play buddy cop, everyone's friend.

Oh, she could be friends as well. But unlike Trailcutter, she did not trust easily. Those she trusted unconditionally could be counted on two hands; half were on board this ship. Those not in that circle met with ... conditions.

With Brainstorm, he had weapons, she had connections to suppliers and a Sirian bank account. She kept it legal — barely.

"Oi! Ship's genius!" she pounded on the door. She avoided chimes — always. A calling card. "Official-like business here!"

The door slid open, the winged Autobot baring entrance with one arm against the jamb. "Artemis, my favourite gunrunner! What do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm sure Red's already told you. Now, I know you're in the clear," she interrupted his protest, "but I need an idea of what we're looking at for missing equipment."

"And you came to me instead of Perceptor," he pointed out, guarded.

She made a noise — _pfft_! "Please. He's brilliant, but outside his sniper rifle, he's not the weapons expert. You are. So, gonna help me out on this? Get Red off my aft? Tell me we're looking at someone trying to make a printing press to put out a discordian rag?"

Brainstorm's arm dropped. Good sign. "Red mentioned something about some fuel cells for the MARBs going missing. Honestly, that could be a broad spectrum of issues, but generally they're too low-yield to be used for anything other than close-quarters combat. They're not practical as grenades, and they're too cumbersome for streamline projectiles such as arrows or javelins. Handheld weapons are a no-go: they'd explode on contact, likely taking out the wielder's hand in the process. They're single use in that aspect. To power something like a firearm, it would not be strong enough to guarantee a kill. Maybe on par with EMP shot, perhaps, but would burn out without continuous recharging. Unless an amateur weaponsmith was attempting something really stupid, practical uses for low-yield fuel cells would be powering something mobile, like the MARBs." As he rambled, he moved away from the doorway, granting Artemis access to the lab. As she entered, the door slid closed. "The fuel cells were the only thing Red mentioned; was there, out of curiosity, were there anything else, such as anti-grav units? High-output fans? Anything that might be used for propulsion?"

"As far as I know, just the fuel cells."

"Oh. Well, I might suggest asking Atomizer. Just because it's not practical doesn't mean it can't be done. I wouldn't do it — too predictable. Oh! While you're here —"

"Yeah, I need ammo for Hell." Hollow points for her large-calibre handgun was hard to find through normal channels.

He exhumed a box of loaded magazines and placed them on the table between them. "I've perfected the EMP charge from our last test; the addition of the charge reduced the range by five or so meters, but you tend to favour the hollow points in close range anyway. But that's not what I was thinking about. I have something for you — got inspired, really, after that tale of the Forge you told a couple of decacycles ago. I'm always intrigued whenever an atheist talks about a wielding holy relic."

"I wouldn't say it was a holy relic—"

"Quiet you, I'm on a roll. Anyway, I was inspired to design a melee weapon — how strange is that? — that could, in its own right, hold its own against —"

She could let him ramble forever; her damning weakness for flyboy nerds talking their passions. But, "Brainstorm, I'm sorry, but I'm on the clock."

"Oh, but there's this! Please, let me be nice right now, because I might be angry at you the next time we meet. So anyway, I remember you saying that you used to be a melee fighter prior to the Forge, dual-wielding fighting sticks, correct?"

"About the size of MARB fuel cells, in fact," she prompted.

"Oh, no, those don't suit your fighting style anymore. Besides, remember that bit about one-shot use, takes out your hand in the process? Why would I do that, especially to the one person willing to help test my inventions?"

"You were the one who invented a gun that shoots ennui."

"That? That was on a lark."

"Tell that to poor Pipes."

"But I digress. Anyway, you're favouring the beat down — police brutality personified."

She grimaced. "That's...not exactly a compliment, Brainstorm."

"Not now, remember, on a roll. So figuring in the concept of the Forge, not to mention the unofficial symbol of the Wreckers, I present to you — " the yellow and blue flyer darted across the room, rummaged through a large box marked "PROTOTYPES", and withdrew a space black sledge hammer. "—this!"

She cocked her head to one side. "It's a sledge hammer."

"Oho! Do you truly think I would create a simple sledge hammer?"

"It's a sledge hammer that shoots lasers?"

"You lack imagination, Artemis."

"It's a sledge hammer that boomerangs back to the user when thrown?"

"Still lacking imagination! Catch!" He tossed it underhand; it made three revolutions before Artemis caught it with her left hand. "Now, give it a few swings. Go ahead, it won't explode. I don't think."

"It better not; Ratchet's getting tired of seeing me with digits blown off because of you."

"I jest! It's completely kinetic; no explosives, no ammunition, just an electro-static cage to build up energy for Phase Two. Give it a couple of swings, then go as though striking the butt of a two-hander onto the ground. Go ahead. I tested it myself -- well, more on that later. Go head, please!"

"The suspense is killing you, isn't it?" She did as instructed, making a few wide, stretching swings before spinning it in her hand and jerking the handle downward, turning her face away as she did. With a burst of energy, the handle expanded, the butt connecting with the ground; the head of the sledge expanded with a network of electric blue energy, favouring a lucerne-style head. She almost dropped the weapon in surprise.

Brainstorm clapped his hands at the display. "Oh, good! Do you like it? I've been wanting to do something a little more — forgive the pun — artsy for quite some time now. I know you've got — " he tapped the carpal chamber of his right wrist, indicating her hidden Master shiv in the corresponding wrist " — but that's for extreme close quarters. This way, you can keep a distance, but still get your hands bloody."

Trailcutter's prediction rang in her head, but she shook it away. "What's this gonna cost me? You have all my weapons stories."

"Oh, payment was the Forge story; I know you threw that in as a bonus when you had covered your firearms, but, as I said before, I was inspired. It was a doodle, really. Just let me know how it works in actual combat; I'm certain no one will miss a maintenance drone or two. It's kinetically driven, so it theoretically won't run out of charges. Still, I'd test it longer than the fifteen cycles I did."

"How does it collapse — " As she asked the question, the weapon contracted onto itself, returning to the normal shape of a sledge hammer.

"Thirty clicks inactivity, or slam the butt again, and wait three clicks. Would be awkward otherwise. Here's the other kicker: I took the liberty of creating a sort of magnetic attraction safeguard to it; at first, I went by spark-type, so in theory, anyone with Ferrum-Positive will be able to use it. There's other little idiosyncrasies, such as movement and magnetic fields; things that you'd find second-nature, but others would have a hard time duplicating. Otherwise, it's simply a sledge hammer that feels...well, wrong. Like I said, I only was able to test it on my own for a few cycles. Keyed to your movements and personal EMF field. That idea, I got from your handguns. I would have loved to have met their creator."

"So would have I," Artemis replied absently. "I suppose a thank you is in order; I'm impressed with it. Good weight, good concept. I'll give you reports."

"Oh, the pleasure is mine, just to see my works being put to good use! As long as I have willing test subjects, I'm happy!"

Artemis arched a brow. "'Willing' test subjects? As opposed to...unwilling?"

Brainstorm shook his hands. "Oh, no no no no no! Don't take it that way! The weapons I built today may bring peace tomorrow, but in order to make certain they work, I need those willing to test them for me, because, you know ... I'm a bit of a coward."

"So you have no clue about the fuel cells."

"Ah, back on that subject. Sadly, no; other than recreational use, I have little use for the weapon equivalent to a firecracker."

Artemis nodded. "I believe you. Just trying to cover all the bases, that's all. Red can be a mite obtuse when it comes questioning."

"Whereas you can be distracted by shiny new weapons."

"As so long as you're distracted by the supplier of your materials," she smirked, exiting the lab. Once the door closed, she hailed Red Alert. "Might have a lead, Red; we're looking for a mischief-maker at worst. The fuel cells aren't practical for weapons."

Her call went to voice mail, which was...unusual...for Red. Switching tactics, she pinged Trailcutter.

 _"Any leads?"_ He questioned.

"Yeah, Brainstorm says the cells aren't strong enough for weapons, and I believe him. We're probably looking for a mischief-maker. Probably something light transportation-wise, or something that makes a loud noise."

_"You trust him?"_

"I did a quick scope of his lab while I was there; other than his security blanket and some half-aft prototypes, I didn't see anything that looked like it could have been otherwise."

_"Heh. 'Security blanket.'"_

"Clever, eh? I came up with that just now."

_"Well, Atomizer said pretty much the same thing; asked him if they could be used as projectiles. His statement matches Brainstorm's, then."_

"Which could also rule out Whirl; not destructive enough. I'll still check him out. Anyone else on the list you want me to check for you?"

_"Cav's on the list, but I'm not surprised, because Rod's there right above her. Hey, you're here too!"_

"Get fragged," she laughed. "So I may take you up on Swerve's tonight."

_"No can do; they're having a private function. Something Rewind's planning. Didn't get into details. We can grab Hoist, Hound, and Grapple and head to the reservoir, though. Good view of space stuff."_

"Sounds beautiful. Have you tried getting in touch with Red?"

_"Yeah, he shot me a text saying he was checking on a lead and might be unavailable for a bit."_

"All right. I'm going to check in with the big guy to see if he's seen anything legitimately suspicious."

_"That's bad, Art, when we have to differentiate between 'suspicious' and 'legitimately suspicious'."_

"Still trying to convince Red that just because I'm carrying something under my arm, does not mean it's contraband."

 _"With you, it usually is."_ A chuckle. _"See you tonight, Art,"_ Trailcutter signed off.

"Oi, Whirl!" she switched gears; might as well get it over with. "Where're you at?"

_"Whatever it was, boss, I didn't do it!"_

Had he not answered all her calls like that, she might have grown suspicious. "Any idea where ten MARB fuel cells could have gone off to?"

_"This may be a no-brainer, but did you check with Brainstorm?"_

"First place I checked."

_"Welp, that exhausted my idea pool, so nope, can't help you, boss."_

"So where are you?"

_"Right now? At this moment?"_

"Yes, Whirl, right now, at this moment."

_"Need to know only, boss. Super-secret spy stuff — okay, me and Skids are playing midget toss in the auditorium."_

She halted her trek. "You're—what?"

_"Lots of fun — stop whining, Tailgate, it's not like we hurting you or nothing — for everyone! Wanna play? Frag, it's Cyclonus! Abort! Abort!"_

It was a full ten clicks before Artemis registered the dead air on the other end of the comm.

"Okay, not Whirl," she deduced, continuing down the hallway to the lift. Entering the car, she thumbed the glyph for the bridge floor. She was about to call Cavalier when her comm buzzed. "Artemis."

 _"Grapple's been called for reservoir duty tonight,"_ Trailcutter stated. _"Something about someone doing illegal dumping, so it's off limits till the ban's lifted. We may have to relocate to either the observation deck or one of the hab units."_

"Mine's a fraggin' closet, and besides, Cav's got a LAN party planned. We can always claim the observation deck. And it's wasn't Whirl; he's been with Skids and Tailgate this afternoon in the auditorium."

 _"You know, this may sound strange that it would come up just now,"_ Trailcutter mused, _"But do you think Red checked the CCTV? I find it hard to believe with all those cameras, there wouldn't be any record of it. Hell, we can't sneeze without it being caught on file."_

"Good call; I'll ask Magnus when I see him about that."

_"So, gather info, then observation deck. See you there!"_

He was going to have fun picking on her for her new toy. Maybe they should have made plans for SB-Eleven to try it out.

The lift chimed her stop, and she exited, approaching the officers' quarters at a good clip. Kicking her feet clean, she knocked on the door marked "DULY APPOINTED ENFORCER OF THE TYREST ACCORD", under which, "Please wipe feet before entering", this time two quick raps on the window with her knuckles. "Official business, soldier!" she announced, pushing aside the door. "Serious, too — Red's got us looking into the theft of some MARB fuel cells. 'Cutter and I were thinking if we could check the footage from SB-Eleven — Magnus?"

The office was empty. Pings to Rodimus and Drift yielded nothing, so she hailed Blaster.

 _"Big guy's still on recon; haven't much more than that, Art,"_ the communications head responded to her call. _"Anything I can do you for?"_

"I need CCTV clearance, Shuttle-Bay Eleven, time stamp T-minus 10 megacycles to T-minus one megacycle. Trying to figure out what happened to some MARB fuel cells."

 _"Shouldn't probably tell you this, Art,"_ Blaster chuckled, _"but all the cameras in SB-Eleven got blown out by that EMP test you guys pulled a decacycle back. Red hadn't replaced them yet."_

"Thus why we've been doing ground work. Well, that answers my question. Thanks, Blaster."

_"Anytime, Art! Over and out!"_

Well. "No good, 'Cutter; bad news is the cameras in SB-Eleven've been shorted out since our last weapons test."

_"What do you mean, 'our'?"_

"You helped."

_"Yeah, I helped keep casualties to a minimum. Whose idea was to let spectators in for weapons testing? Especially when Brainstorm's involved?"_

"At least the good news is that the cameras in SB-Eleven've been shorted out since our last weapons test."

_"Let's...not tell Brainstorm. For the sake of my sanity, let's not tell Brainstorm."_

"Magnus is still out on recon, so we're back to pounding the tarmac. Anything yet on your end?"

_"Negative; pretty much everyone shaking their head and — um, Art?"_

"Yeah?"

_"I'm in ICU right now. Ambulon reports that Rewind signed Rung out."_

A quarter of a cycle passed to allow Artemis to digest the information. "What do you mean, 'signed out'?"

_"Exactly that. I mean, who signs out a catatonic body?"_

"Maybe they're trying to jog something; Ratchet said there's nothing rung with Wrong — wrong with Rung — at least physiologically. Can't tell you, 'Cutter; sounds like more the medics' expertise. Who signed off for it?"

_"Ambulon says First Aid; First Aid says Ratchet okayed it. Guess there's no real mystery there."_

"Still, kinda odd. Agreed there. Otherwise, no fuel cells, eh?"

_"Negative. Did run into Cav and asked her about it. If she did took them, she doesn't remember."_

"Did she have an optic twitch? If she did, she did it."

_"Turbofox in a searchlight look, but no twitch."_

"She start talking fast?"

_"Negative — well, no faster than usual. Told me she hadn't the damnedest."_

"Not unusual. I'll chat with her."

_"So not Brainstorm, Atomizer, Whirl, possibly Cav. There goes our top suspects."_

"Red's top suspects. Not ours."

_"Care to fill me in on this?"_

Artemis collected her thoughts for her speculation before revealing it. "If not for weapons or fireworks, what else could low-yield fuel cells be used for?"

A lengthy pause. _"Fuel?"_

"I'm going to see Perceptor," she revealed. "I think we need to figure out what else could use those cells without advanced knowledge."

 

Next Chapter: Access and Amplify


End file.
